


When Love Makes Room

by Dreamersnirvana



Category: Instinct (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced OC Death, M/M, Other, implied/referenced pyro incident, inspired by canon and then diverges, more tags will be added as fic is updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamersnirvana/pseuds/Dreamersnirvana
Summary: Near the end of Season 1, Dylan and Andy decide that they want to start a family. This story follows their journey as they become parents and get a little more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Dylan Reinhart/Andrew "Andy" Wilson, Dylan and Andy
Kudos: 17





	1. Meet Me at the Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to CourtlyCrow on tumblr for beta-reading! I couldn't have published this without their help.

Dylan looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his cufflink. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his sleeping husband on their bed, laying on his stomach, looking tired even still. The morning sun shone on Andy’s dark curls, longer than usual with the bar taking up most of his time, casting a golden halo around his head. 

Dylan gave an involuntary intake of breath at the sight, feeling different emotions wash over him. Love, for the husband who is always by his side. Longing, to be laying beside him. Guilt, knowing he’d left some mornings before Andy even rolled out of bed. Dylan tried to convince himself it was because of their opposite schedules, but he knew that wasn’t all. Three jobs. They’d struggled enough with two taking up most of Dylan’s time. Now with both of them on call, Dylan at the precinct and Andy at the bar, they were lucky to eat take-out together before bed. No more homemade, organic meals that Andy wanted. There just wasn’t time. 

Dylan looked back to the bathroom sink, picking up his watch that lay there. The emotions rolling in his stomach giving him no ease. Maybe Andy was right when he accused Dylan of sabotaging the meeting with the social worker. Maybe he continued sabotaging any chance they had at a family by taking on too much. Chasing that empty feeling he couldn’t place, convincing himself there just wasn't enough time in the day. That it wasn’t the right time. 

Dylan looked at himself again, studying his completed ensemble. He stopped at his own eyes, trying to imagine a question there. Did he really want a family? 

As soon as he thought it he knew the answer. Yes. Was he sure it would make the void fill? On this Dylan wasn’t as certain, but he could accept it. No more waiting, he thought to himself. 

Dylan exited the bathroom and made his way over to his nightstand. A pad of paper and pen lay there for whenever he felt inspiration for his book arise. It had been a few weeks since he’d touched it. 

Dylan picked up the pen and scrawled a few words, ripping it from the pad neatly when it was finished. He walked back around to the other side of the bed, folding the paper as he did so before laying it atop Andy’s nightstand. Dylan reached over and ran a hand gently through Andy’s hair, leaning over to kiss his forehead. Andy shifted, still fast asleep, but Dylan could’ve swore he saw a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“Have a good day, my love.” Dylan whispered into his hair, kissing his head again before straightening back up. He made his way over to their bedroom door, cast one last glance, and started on his way to the precinct. 

\----------

Andy dreamt he was trying to talk to Dylan but he was always in another room. Whenever Andy got closer, Dylan would move away, a buzzing noise sounding. Andy felt frustration bubble up inside his chest. The buzzing continued even as he felt himself being pulled out of sleep. 

Andy opened his eyes, blinking a few times at the bright light. The memory of his dream fading away, leaving behind a bitter taste of anger in his mouth. The buzzing sounded again and Andy lifted his head to see his phone light up. 

He reached for it, knocking something off the nightstand as he did so, swiping to answer the call. 

“Hello?” Andy’s voice croaked as he rolled onto his back. 

“Andy, you bastard, are you still asleep?” Lindsey’s voice sounded loud into his ear. 

“No, well, yes, but--what is it?” Andy rubbed a hand over his face. 

“The heating guy is coming today, remember? He’s supposed to be here at three but he’s early!” Lindsey’s voice sounded slightly panicked, “I don’t have the money to pay him and he’s finishing up soon!” 

Andy sat up straight. 

“Shit shit shit, okay, hold on, I’ll be right over.” Andy threw the covers off himself, swinging his legs over the bed as he looked around for his pants. 

“Hurry, please!” Lindsey’s voice chimed before the line went dead. 

Andy got up and quickly put on his clothes while attempting to brush his teeth simultaneously, wishing he had showered last night. Figures he’d oversleep today. 

Andy was about to walk out of the bedroom when he glanced at the unmade bed. With a half sigh, half growl he forced himself to at least pull the sheets up and straighten the pillows. Dylan said he hated coming home to a messy bed, and Andy had to admit he didn’t necessarily like it either. 

As he finished on Dylan’s side and walked over to his own he felt something crush under his foot. Looking down, Andy shifted his leg to pick up a piece of paper. He almost sat it down and continued, but he decided to open it. 

_Andy,_

_I hope you slept well. I made an extra cup of coffee and left out your mug for you. I’m planning on coming home early and making chicken parmesan. I hope the bar doesn’t keep you too long so that we may have dinner together. I want to talk to you about some things._

_With all my love,_  
_Dylan_

Andy smiled a little, despite the knot of tension in his chest. He slipped the note into his pocket and with his other hand began dialing the number of the heating and air maintenance guy. 

“Hi, hello? This is Andrew, the owner of the bar…” 

\-----

Andy walked up the front steps to their place. It was nearly ten, early for his usual, but still not as early as he had hoped. Dylan must’ve been waiting all evening for him to get home, thinking Andy had rejected his offer. 

Andy stepped inside, glancing to his left into the kitchen. 

“You’re home!” Dylan greeted him from the right, rising up from the couch. He was still in his suit from the day. 

“Hey, babe, sorry I didn’t get home sooner.” Andy leaned into Dylan’s kiss, resting a hand on his husband’s hip as he did so. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dylan waved it off, “I know you were busy, and I needed all the time I could get to cook.” 

“Ah, yes! The chicken parmesan.” Andy said, slipping off his shoes as Dylan walked over to their small round table.

“About that,” Dylan looked at him a little sheepishly, “I might’ve burnt the chicken.” 

“What?” Andy laughed, walking over to stand by Dylan’s shoulder. 

A bowl of plain spaghetti lay on the center of the table, freshly grated parmesan and a separate bowl of sauce beside it. No chicken was in sight.

“I got a little side-tracked when the timer went off.” Dylan admitted, opening a bottle of wine he held and began pouring it into glasses.

“Well, I think this’ll work just fine.” Andy accepted the glass Dylan handed him and kissed him on the cheek. “Shall we?” 

Dylan smiled and pulled out a chair as Andy did the same. 

“So, how was the precinct today?” Andy asked as Dylan prepared his plate. 

“No, no work. Tonight, let’s just talk about us.” Dylan set Andy’s plate, now full of pasta, back down and grabbed his own. 

“Should I have prepared some topics to discuss, then?” Andy raised an eyebrow, “Was there a couple's therapy homework I missed?” Andy ladled some sauce on his pasta and waited patiently for Dylan to finish with the cheese. 

“No,” Dylan said, giving Andy a look as he reached for the sauce bowl. Andy pushed it over for him before picking up his fork.

“I want to talk about the meeting with the social worker,” Dylan continued, “I think you were right.” 

Andy sat back in his chair.

“Wow, this must be serious, you bringing out those words.” Andy tried to contain the irritation thinking of that day from boiling over into his voice. 

Now it was Dylan’s turn to sit back. 

“Andy, I am serious. I should’ve controlled my temper better.” 

They sat in silence for a moment before Andy released a breath, reaching for Dylan’s hand. 

“She wasn’t the most open minded of people we’ve come across.” He relented, feeling relief as Dylan’s hand entered his own. 

“Still.” Dylan gave a small smile, “I do want you to know, Andy, I would never intentionally jeopardize our chances of expanding our family.” 

Andy nodded, taking a breath as he looked away for a moment. 

“I know. I shouldn’t have accused you of not wanting a baby.” 

“I wasn’t properly showing you I wanted a baby. So,” Dylan released Andy’s hand and stood, walking over to the counter. He returned to the table and handed Andy a small stack of papers stapled together, “I got these.” 

Andy read the bolded font on the top of the page. Foster Care License Application. Andy looked up at Dylan. 

“They say that sometimes this is easier, and if all things work out, it can lead to adoption. At least with foster care, we wouldn’t have to wait to raise a child.” Dylan offered a small smile as he finished, studying Andy’s expression with anxious eyes. 

“Dylan, I...I love it. I think it's a great idea.” Andy leaned over and kissed him on the lips, Dylan bringing a hand up to run through his hair in return. 

“It doesn’t guarantee we’ll be able to adopt, though, birth parents are usually more or less involved and--” 

“Babe, it's fine. I think this is perfect.” Andy interrupted, kissing the hand Dylan had resting on his shoulder. Dylan smiled, relief making his shoulders relax. 

The two of them discussed more details, the conversation getting more excited as they went. At one point their dinner was abandoned as they walked around the house, imagining furniture placement and kid proofing the house. After they cleaned up the kitchen, despite both of them feeling a bit fatigued, they took out their cookbooks to look through for meals to practice making. Kids, Dylan assured, could be very picky. As Dylan psychoanalyzed the reasons, Andy doggy earred a few recipes he thought might be fun, writing out a list as they went. Eventually they both had to admit it was getting late and another work day was on its way. But they were excited again about expanding their family and Andy took comfort in the steps Dylan had taken to prove he was ready to be a dad.


	2. Like Those Gay Father Penguins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan and Andy get information on their soon-to-be foster child and get excited. Lots of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to CourtlyCrow on tumblr for beta-reading! I couldn't have published this without their help.

A few weeks passed. Their license was approved and all that was left to do was wait. 

Dylan sat at his desk in the precinct. Lizzie was surfing the web for any social media on a suspect in their latest case. 

“This dude must be a technophobe, or at least hasn’t caught up with the rest of the 21st century. No Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, not even an old MySpace page.” Lizzie commented, the computer mouse clicking as she spoke. 

“Hmm.” Dylan mused, not really listening. 

“He’s not even in any of the vic’s photos, or other friends of the vics photos. Odd.” Lizzie continued, turning away from her computer screen to grab her coffee. “Maybe he’s not actually a friend.” She added, taking a sip from her cup. 

“Mmmm.” Dylan continued scrolling on his phone. 

“I have an idea, want to hear?” Lizzie sat her cup down, leaning forward slightly. 

“Mhm.” 

“He’s a vampire.” 

Dylan took a moment before looking up. 

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“It fits! Maybe he’s there but we can’t see him. We should look for photos with someone’s arm out, like this.” Lizzie pretended to wrap an arm around an invisible friend. “Foolproof.” She said with a smile. 

Dylan scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Ah, so you are listening.” Lizzie teased, letting her arm drop. 

“Sorry, I guess I really haven’t been, have I?” Dylan sighed, setting his phone down. 

“No. So what’s on your mind?” Lizzie leaned further forward so their conversation could be more private. 

“As you know, Andy and I are waiting to hear if we’ll be fostering. But it feels like by the time we hear something, the social worker from the adoption agency will be ready for another meeting.” Dylan took off his reading glasses and rubbed his temples. 

“Well, this kind of stuff takes time, doesn’t it? They have to find someone they think will fit with you.” Lizzie said, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

“You’re not wrong.” Dylan said, laying his hands in his lap. 

“Do you know what age the kid will be?” 

“We’re hoping for a toddler, maybe, or younger if possible. Andy is great with babies, and he’s been watching so many swaddling videos. I wouldn’t want that to go to waste.”

Dylan and Lizzie both laugh a little, making Fucci look over as he walks past.

“Here’s to hoping the news comes soon, then.” Lizzie says, raising her cup. 

Dylan nods, picking up his own mug and returning the gesture. The two of them take a swig of their drinks. 

“Now, back to the case. Let's talk about this Rodney guy.” Lizzie says as she sets down her coffee, back to business.

Not thirty minutes later, Dylan receives a call. He excuses himself and walks into one of the empty conference rooms. 

“Hello?” He answers, closing the door behind him. 

“Mr. Reinhart, hello, it's Sandra Dare.”

Dylan’s heart skips a beat with excitement at the foster care worker’s voice. 

“Hello! Is everything okay?” Dylan asks, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Yes, I have good news! We have an eligible foster child we think will be a nice fit for you and your husband. I sent you some information through email, but we’ll discuss most of the details when I arrive on Friday.” 

“Great, thank you very much for letting me know!” Dylan tried to contain his excitement as he made his way out of the conference room to his desk. 

“Of course. See you Friday, Mr. Reinhart.” 

Dylan hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket, grabbing his keys from the drawer. 

“Gotta run?” Lizzie asked, looking up from the computer. 

“That was the caseworker, we’ll be meeting our foster kid this weekend!” Dylan smiled happily and Lizzie matched it with equal warmth. 

“I told you it wouldn't take long!”

“I know. Will you be fine here?” Dylan asked, realizing he had almost forgotten about the case and left her alone. 

Lizzie waved him off. 

“If anything big comes up, I’ll let you know. Until then, Clarke can help me. He needs more time in the field, anyway.” Lizzie reassured him, “Go tell Andy.” 

Dylan smiled gratefully and made his way out of the precinct. He hopped on his motorcycle and rode to Andy’s bar, thankful the traffic wasn’t horrible. 

Parking outside, Dylan walked over to the bar at a quick pace. 

When he entered he was greeted with the smell of alcohol, wings, and a hint of someone’s cologne. Lindsey spotted Dylan almost immediately and smiled at him, finishing with a customer before walking over. 

“Hey there, Dylan. What brings ya by?” Her dark blonde curls bobbed as she picked up a glass from an empty table beside them. 

“I was hoping I could speak with Andy. Is he out?” Dylan glanced at the bar, which only had Ed mixing drinks for the patrons. 

“Nah, he’s in the back with Matt. Talking about preparing for the evening rush.” 

Dylan nodded in thanks and walked past the many tables, excusing himself when a large man stood in his path without noticing him. 

Dylan went through the kitchen door and was greeted with the stuffy atmosphere of a hot, greasy bar kitchen. 

Andy stood by the deep fryer, arms crossed, talking to Matt at the counter beside him. Andy looked up as Dylan walked in and waved at him, saying something else to Matt before walking over to Dylan. 

“Hey, on your lunch break?” Andy pecked Dylan’s cheek as he took off his kitchen apron, hanging it on a hook by the door. 

“Technically no, but this couldn't wait.” Dylan replied as Andy opened the kitchen door and motioned for Dylan to go through. Dylan obliged and stopped at an empty table in front of them. 

“Oh?” Andy raised an eyebrow, a question in his eyes and concern beginning to play out on his face. 

“Sandra Dare called, she’s coming Friday with our foster child.” Dylan smiled, his heart lifting as Andy’s expression went from curious to elated.

“Thats fantastic! I can’t believe it’s happening so fast.” Andy kissed him happily, taking Dylan’s hands in his own. 

“I know. She’s sending some of the paperwork over now.” 

“Didn’t she mention someone might stop by before if this happened? To ensure our place is ready? Gosh, I need to check everything. Friday is only two days away!” Andy didn’t wait for Dylan’s reply, flagging down Lindsey as she walked past. 

“Hey, Lindz, I need to head out. Matt’s got the kitchen covered and Ed’s here till closing.” 

Lindsey nodded. “No worries, boss, we’ve got it under control.” 

“Thanks. Call me if you need anything!” Andy said, grabbing Dylan’s hand to drag him out the door. 

“Do you have your extra helmet here?” Dylan asked, stopping them both before they walked out. 

“Oh yeah, I do. One sec.” Andy walked back to his office and reappeared with his helmet. “All set!” 

Dylan smiled and they went out to his motorcycle. Andy wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist as he righted the bike for them to ride. 

“It's been a while since you’ve ridden with me.” Dylan commented over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I know. We said we’d go out more but that hasn’t really happened. There’s a time for everything, though!” Andy smiled through the helmet’s covering, Dylan smiling back before checking the road and starting off. 

Traffic home wasn’t fantastic, but bearable. While they didn’t talk, they both enjoyed each other’s company through the silence.

Andy unlocked their front door and stepped through, flipping on a light. Dylan’s eyes swept the room, checking for anything off. Old habits die hard.

“Why don’t you fix us some tea? I’ll go get my laptop on.” Dylan suggested, kissing Andy’s cheek when he nodded in agreement. 

Dylan walked past the kitchen to his study, going over to his desk. While he waited for his laptop to turn on, Dylan checked the contents of his safe. Feeling satisfied, he sat down at his desk chair. He opened the emails from Sandra just as Andy entered with a mug in each hand. 

“Well? Is it a boy or a girl?” Andy asked, handing Dylan his tea and sitting down on the desk. 

“You know good and well I wouldn’t look without you.” Dylan smiled, blowing on his tea as he clicked open the attachments. Andy leaned over to get a better look. 

“And we have...a boy. _‘Age 1.5’_. We have a toddler!” Andy smiled, looking at Dylan with a happy spark in his eyes. 

Dylan smiled back, looking at the rest of the document. 

“His name is Cooper...and he’s got a bit of a temper.” Dylan raised an eyebrow, catching Andy’s eyes. 

“He’s only a baby though, all babies have tempers.” Andy said, skepticism creeping into his tone.

They sat in silence for a moment. Dylan felt a trickle of guilt go down his spine at the doubt inching into his thoughts. 

“We’ll know more Friday. Why don’t we take the evening to prepare, shall we?” Dylan offered, closing his laptop. Andy stood, wrapping his arms around Dylan as he turned back around. Dylan hugged back, resting his head on Andy’s chest.

They stood for a moment, comfortable again in their silence. Dylan was grateful their arguments, which would’ve made these quiet moments painful, seemed to be moving behind them.

“Alright, now to the kitchen for inspection--Andy.” Andy pulled Dylan back as he tried to untangle himself. 

“No! Stay!” Andy pleaded, resisting the urge to smile. 

“What, are we supposed to stay like this all night?” Dylan laughed, shamelessly snuggling back into Andy’s chest. 

“Yes, and we’ll waddle like those gay father penguins on the news.” Andy rocked them both back and forth, nearly making them lose balance, a laugh vibrating in his chest. Dylan laughed breathlessly, hugging Andy tighter to stay upright. 

Finally, Andy released him, keeping an arm wrapped snugly around his waist.

“So since we’ll be having a wandering toddler, I’m thinking we should invest in those obnoxious baby locks.”


	3. Knock Knock, It's A Sour Lemon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to CourtlyCrow on tumblr for beta-reading! I couldn't have published this without their help.

A knock sounded at the door. It was Friday and they were only expecting one visitor.

Andy jumped up quickly from the couch, catching Dylan’s anxious glance from the kitchen as he came over to greet him.

“Are you ready?” He asked, fixing Dylan’s tie. 

“About as ready as you are.” Dylan replied, laying a reassuring hand on Andy’s to calm his anxiety. Andy smiled. 

Together, they opened the door. 

Sandra Dare stood before them, smiling as if she were expected to. Slightly in front of her as if wanting to disappear in the corner, however, was a teenage boy with a sour expression. 

“Good morning, Mr. Reinhart, Mr. Wilson, this is Cooper.” Sandra gestured to each of them in turn, and then to the teenage boy, whom she discreetly waggled the finger of her other hand at to step from his lounging spot.

Cooper, who out from behind the door’s wall, Andy noticed, was sporting a fading black eye. 

Andy knew the shock from the whole situation shone on his face more than he would’ve liked, so he stepped to the side to get somewhat out of view. 

“Come in, come in,” He said, using the time to regain his composure and exchange a look with Dylan, who also stepped aside. Andy caught the same look of surprise glinting in his husbands eyes.

Sandra Dare allowed Cooper to go in first, then accepted Andy’s hand when he offered to help her over the doorways lip. 

“Why don’t you sit over on the couch there, Cooper.” Sandra pointed over to the couch they entertained her on over a month ago, before looking between Andy and Dylan, “If that’s alright with you two, that is.” She continued. 

“Yes, make yourself at home.” Dylan agreed smoothly, guiding Sandra over to the kitchen. Andy noticed he kept an inconspicuous eye on Cooper, who scoffed at Dylan’s choice of words as he made his way over to the couch.

Andy was about to follow when he turned back, walking over to the entertaining area. 

“Would you like anything? We have water and juice.” Andy offered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Cooper slumped down on the couch, tossing an old bag at his feet, not looking Andy in the eye. 

“Nope.” Cooper’s voice was flat and abrupt. Andy swallowed and took his hands out of his pockets, brushing them on his pants. 

“Well, if you change your mind, just let us know.” 

“Yep.” 

Andy turned away, feeling a bit helpless and slightly embarrassed at feeling rejected by a teenager as if he were in high school again. 

Andy went over to stand beside Dylan, who had given Sandra the same offer of refreshment, except she accepted. Dylan caught Andy’s eye before starting. 

“Sandra, I was hoping you might clarify something: based on the email you sent, Cooper was supposed to be one and a half.” 

Sandra furrowed her brows as she took a drink from her glass. 

“One and a half? That can’t be right. Cooper is fifteen.” 

Andy looked at Dylan, who shared the same incredulous look. 

“Was it...a typo, then?” Andy said, thinking out loud, hoping despite his proposed solution it wasn’t true. Dylan pulled up the email on his phone to show her as Andy spoke. Sandra removed the reading glasses from her shirt to squint at the screen.

“Must’ve been, because that _is_ his file. I’m sorry, but the only Cooper Owen we have is fifteen.” Sandra returned her glasses to her shirt. “If you think this will be an issue, I can take him back with me. However,” Sandra paused to slide out the chair and seat herself. Andy pulled out the chair and sat, Dylan standing by his side with a hand on his shoulder. 

“It will be a few days before I can take him. You see, the group home he was in filled up fast, and I’m afraid there won't be room for him in our usual housing. There are more teens in the system than any other age group, and until they age out, or heaven forbid, _run away_ , we’re responsible for them.” Sandra informed them, as if this exact situation were all too familiar. 

Despite her seemingly detached words, Andy could tell it came from a place of resignation rather than lack of compassion. Andy looked up at Dylan who shared the same look. He too, could imagine the woman’s life watching one teen after the next being rejected over and over again. 

“No, we still want to foster him. At least, we’d like to see how it goes.” Andy glanced at Dylan who nodded in agreement. 

Sandra sighed in relief more visibly than Andy guessed she meant to. 

“Okay, then I should fill you in on some details.” Sandra pulled a few papers from her bag. Dylan grabbed the chair at the other head of the table and sat it next to Andy’s, taking a seat. 

“Cooper doesn’t have a great track record with school, but you two are within his most recent high school district--hence being a good fit--and you will need to walk him to and from each day to ensure attendance. Two more absences and he’ll be suspended, which is a snowball effect from there. Next, he has therapy sessions with Dr. Yun, which are pro bono so you don’t need to worry about that, two to three times a week. If he misses one he’ll violate his probation.” 

“Probation for what exactly?” Dylan interrupted.

“Minor pyro incident. He set one of his previous foster houses on fire; but it was his first serious offense and the judge decided it wasn’t with intent to harm. It was he-said-she-said with the foster parent and him, honestly. However, with his track record of a temper, the judge court-ordered therapy to help teach him coping mechanisms.” Sandra shrugged, taking another sip from her water. 

Andy looked over at Cooper who had leaned his head back with his hood pulled up.

“Unless his mom miraculously gets out on parole, you won’t have any contact with the birth parents or family.” 

“No father?” Dylan asked, raising a brow. 

“No, mother killed him. Claimed self defense. In my opinion, I think she was too high to know the difference. I’m sure you’ve seen the type, being a cop and all.” Sandra added, looking over at Dylan. 

“Consultant, actually.” Dylan corrected simply. 

“And how old was Cooper when that happened?” Andy asked, glancing again at the teen passed out on the couch. 

“Ten. He lived with his grandfather for a while until he passed. No other living relatives wanted to take guardianship.” Sandra replied as she shuffled through the papers. 

She went over a few other important details, what to expect, and their responsibilities, most of which she had already covered at the meeting or through emails. Throughout Sandra’s whole presentation her voice remained at a consistent neutral. Andy was reminded sickenly of his days back at court listening to horror stories of people’s lives with his colleagues’ focus only on how it would make a good case to move up the ladder. Absently, he tugged at an invisible tie at his neck. 

“Anything else you’d like to know?” Sandra asked, her ring tapping on her empty glass twice before she pulled her hand away. 

“Does he have any allergies we should be aware of?” Dylan asked, resting a hand on Andy’s knee under the table. 

“Ah, yes, good question.” Sandra smiled for once, the fullest emotion she’d had since she arrived, “I knew you two were good ones. And no, none that we’re aware of. Anything else?” 

Dylan looked at Andy, who shook his head. 

“Alrighty then, well, you have my card. Call me if there is any issue.” Sandra stood, pushing her chair back. “And I mean anything. First time fostering can be quite the experience.” Sandra collected her papers and put them in her bag. 

“Will do.” Dylan smiled politely.

“Thank you for helping us, Sandra, we really appreciate it.” Andy shook her hand and walked with her to the door, Dylan just behind him. 

“My job is easy when there’s such nice couples like you looking to foster.” Sandra admitted with a sigh, smiling slightly at the both of them. She pulled a manilla envelope from her bag, handing it to Andy. “All of the information you need on addresses and such is in there.” Andy nodded in reply.

“Good luck.” Sandra said earnestly over her shoulder as she made her way down the steps. 

“Thank you.” Andy replied, unsure how he felt about her parting words. He closed the door, running his hands along the back of his pants as he looked at Dylan. 

“When life gives you lemons…” Andy said quietly, letting his voice drift off as they both looked over at Cooper. 

“A sour lemon.” Dylan crossed his arms, glancing at Andy out of the corner of his eye as he raised his eyebrows.

“Well, we knew fostering would be a challenge. All of the videos said so.” Andy joked, taking a breath to resist crossing his arms as well. Dylan nodded in return, studying Cooper.

“Lets go make lemonade, shall we?” Dylan started on his way over but Andy laid a hand on his arm.

“Shouldn’t we let him sleep some?” Andy nodded towards the teen who hadn’t moved since he first sat down. 

Dylan looked at Andy and back at Cooper. 

“Trust me, he’s not asleep.” 

Andy hesitated but nodded, trusting Dylan’s judgment. The two of them made their way over, giving Cooper a respectful distance so as to not crowd him. 

“Are you ready for the tour?” Dylan asked, his tone light-hearted. 

At first Andy thought Cooper might ignore him, but within the shadow of his hood he saw him open an eye. 

Cooper sighed, lifting his head and sliding his hood back so his face wasn’t as obscured. 

“Sure.” 

“As you can tell, this is our entertaining area, and over there is the kitchen. You’re welcome to whatever you like in the fridge.” Dylan began, waiting patiently as Cooper took his time grabbing his bag and standing up. 

“Through here is our pantry, which leads to my study.” Dylan allowed Andy and Cooper to walk ahead of him, no doubt keeping an eye on Cooper’s body language. 

Cooper looked around the large room, his face unreadable to Andy. 

“By the fireplace leads into the small living room, which has a door to the backyard. It stays locked at night with an alarm.” Dylan added, glancing at Andy as he did so. 

“And here is the door to our sunroom.” Dylan walked over to the door on the opposite wall, opening them to reveal a small room decorated with their many plants.

“Do you read any?” Andy asked, catching Cooper’s eye. Cooper shrugged. 

“Well, it has amazing light and stays pretty warm even in the fall and winter. Normally it's pretty quiet, too.” Andy gave a small smile, which Cooper barely acknowledged, but Dylan returned as he closed the doors again. 

They walked back through the hall and past their table, leading Cooper to the adjacent hall. 

“Here is the stairs, and just past there is a doorway to a half bath.” Dylan pointed pasted the spiral staircase, already making his way up the steel stairs. 

Cooper hesitated, seeming unsure if he should go ahead of Andy. After waiting a beat, Andy decided it was best he went first. 

At the top of the stairs Dylan nodded for Andy to take over. Andy took a breath before starting. 

“The door right in front of us leads to our bedroom, and the one to our left is the other full bath, which will be yours. You’re welcome to check it out if you like.” Andy put his hands in his pockets again as he spoke. Cooper didn’t move to oblige. 

“And behind the stairs is another door which leads to your bedroom.” Andy continued after a moment's pause, taking the initiative to open the door and walk through. He flipped on a light. A crib sat in a corner. Other child toys lay neatly on shelves and tucked away in a chest. 

“We’ll be rearranging,” Andy cleared his throat, watching Cooper’s expression as he took the room in, “we, er, were under the impression we would be fostering a much younger child.” Andy finished honestly, now looking at Dylan. 

“But we are happy to have you,” Dylan added, smiling at Cooper. “Until we can get a proper bed here, however, I can set it up for you to sleep in the study.” 

“Dylan has great taste in couches, don’t worry.” Andy asserted with a smile at Dylan, “I promise you it's as comfortable as a cloud. Dylan likes to lay there when writing escapes him.” 

Dylan laughed softly, not disagreeing. 

“Unfortunately, that seems to happen a lot these days.” Dylan admitted, leading them back out into the foyer. They made their way back downstairs to the kitchen. 

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Andy asked, leaning his back against the counter as Dylan poured some coffee. 

Cooper looked as if he were about to shake his head before he stopped himself. Still, he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m planning on fixing pancakes, does that sound good?” Andy straightened, already beginning to walk to the fridge to gather ingredients.

“Yeah.” Cooper said finally.

“Great,” Andy smiled, “The best pancakes you’ll ever taste, coming right up.” 

Dylan rolled his eyes slightly, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Andy will swear everything he makes is a masterpiece.” Dylan put in, casting a teasing glance at Andy when he pretended to look hurt. 

“Excuse me, everything I make is a masterpiece. I don’t watch all those cooking shows for nothing!” Andy grabbed a mixing bowl from the upper cabinet, smiling as Dylan laughed. Andy looked over at Cooper again, realizing he was still standing there carrying his belongings on his shoulder. 

“You’re welcome to set your bag in Dylan’s study or upstairs in your room. I’ll make space for your things in the closet and dresser after we’ve finished.” Andy said, hoping he didn’t sound too patronizing. 

Cooper conceded, heading off into the study. Dylan watched him go, turning to Andy when he was out of earshot. 

“This is going to be an interesting few days.” Dylan sat down his coffee, walking over to stir the pancake mix as Andy threw away the eggshells. 

“Who knows, maybe we’ll decide we like the challenge.” Andy replied, “It could be a great topic for that book you’re not writing. I can see the proposal for Joan now: ‘Ex CIA on His Toughest Case Yet: Raising a Teenager’.” Andy waved his hands in the air dramatically as returned to take over from Dylan. 

“You think everything is a good thing to write about.” Dylan laughed, grabbing the frying pan from the cabinet and handing Andy the measuring cup. 

Dylan’s phone buzzed before Andy could say his retort. Andy turned away as disappointment rose in his chest when Dylan began reading the message.

“Is it Lizzie?” He asked over his shoulder, pouring the mix onto the pan. 

“No, Joan. I swear she knows when you talk about her.” Dylan slid his phone back in his pocket. 

Andy chuckled, ignoring the release of tension he’d held in his shoulders. 

Cooper returned to the kitchen.

“Ah, there you are. Are chocolate chip pancakes too young for a fifteen year old?” Andy joked, looking over his shoulder as he took a finished pancake off the eye. 

“If it is someone needs to tell Fucci. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him microwave the mini-ones at the precinct.” Dylan placed a plate in front of Cooper, checking his phone as it buzzed again. 

Andy finished with the pancakes after a few minutes, carrying over a couple plates. Dylan had finished setting the table and placed a glass of water in front of Cooper, who continued to sit in silence.

“We have plain, chocolate chip, and blueberry. Help yourself to as much as you like.” Andy said as he sat the plates down, sitting down opposite Dylan. 

Cooper looked at them both before using his fork to get a few chocolate chip ones. Dylan took a couple blueberry, and Andy took one of each. 

Dylan brought up sports as they ate, which surprised Andy, but he figured Dylan assumed it might be something Cooper related to. Mostly Andy talked, Dylan interjecting here and there when he recognized names, and Cooper ate his pancakes quietly. The conversation drifted to other topics, but Cooper didn’t seem interested to join in. When Cooper eyeballed the last pancake from the serving plate, Andy went ahead and placed it on Cooper’s plate with a wink. Dylan’s phone kept going off throughout, and soon he was complaining good heartedly about Joan’s pestering. 

Andy got up to clean, listening to Dylan go on about Joan. Dylan joined, coming over to dry the dishes as Andy washed. When Andy went to clear the table he found Cooper had stacked everything neatly and was picking it up to bring over.

“Thank you.” Cooper said, handing the plates over to Andy. 

“Of course, thank you for helping.” Andy smiled warmly.

Dylan shared a look with Andy when he returned to the sink, both of them pleasantly surprised.


End file.
